


my strange addiction

by swishandflickwit



Series: The Devil's Lucky Number [5]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: (i keep forgetting to add that tag lol), But mostly fluff, Chloe KNOWS, Deckerstar - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/M, If You Squint - Freeform, Tiny Angst, YOUR TEETH WILL ROT, but fun i hope!!!, deckerstar fanfiction, he is risen, like so fluffy, mostly introspection honestly, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 03:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18460991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swishandflickwit/pseuds/swishandflickwit
Summary: “I’m like walking heroin,”he once said.“Very habit forming.”In which Chloe comes to terms with her new dynamic with Lucifer.





	my strange addiction

**Author's Note:**

> SO IT WOULD SEEM that i am in a Billie Eilish kick lmao because the title of this is again, one of her [songs.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2gmTdTh5VM) The powder-fuse-friction line you'll find below was from my strange addiction.
> 
> But this is happier than [when the party's over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18450554) I swear!

_“I’m like walking heroin,”_   he once said. _“Very habit forming.”_

She thought he’d been full of shit at the time (to be fair he still kind of was seeing how he was terrible at processing his emotions), but for the most part that had obviously not been true given everything she now knew.

He’d told her nothing but truth right from the start— _this_ certainly wasn’t any different, despite her weakly-tethered ambivalence in the beginning. And even then that hadn’t lasted.

Wasn’t that how she got here in the first place?

Here being one of the precinct’s supply closets in the middle of the work day as she accosted the Devil with her lips. _Naturally._

_Fuck,_ she thought. It wasn’t even her fault, she _swears_ it.

It was just... did he have to be so—so— _everything?_

He was walking sex and he _knew_ it, but that wasn’t even what had done her in. Oh no, Chloe just _had_ to fixate on the manner with which he tipped his head towards the ceiling and placed his hand on his stomach when he found something sincerely funny so as not to wholly betray his collected demeanor, or that one stupid, curly lock that fell right in the middle of his forehead as the products that held it together faded and the day ended, and the creases around his eyes that told of his genuine happiness to just _be_ with her, whether they were in a crime scene surrounded by the stench of septic and blood or at her home where he was most unraveled—sleeves rolled to his elbows, jacket abandoned and the top two buttons of his dress shirt popped open while he made her and Trixie dinner, Frozen playing on a loop in the background.

She loved him, that much was clear. They had _made_ love—many, _many_ times—before, and then some. She loved him so damn much and the knowledge that he honored her with that same love a thousand-fold… there were days she couldn’t _breathe_ with the weight of it.

So it wasn’t as if she’d expected their chemistry to fade but she had _hoped_ it would at least… _temper_ into the smooth embers of a quiet fire.

(Not that there was anything _quiet_ about Lucifer, really)

Just enough that she wasn’t wanting to jump his bones every other second.

Except every _fucking_ time he so much as touched her much less _looked_ at her, she could literally feel herself _lose_ it—her breathing quickening, her pupils dilating and her body quivering with sweet anticipation. He would train those dark orbs solely on her, shining with all the flaming passion of a supernova when it was she who felt like a damn powder keg, and he the fuse.

Her blood would grow restless beneath her skin, roaring with a rabid, desperate desire to ignite.

She just… needed… _friction._

So. Supply closet it was.

Of course, it had _nothing_ to do with the case they had just closed wherein she had _almost_ lost him to his recklessness again—that same recklessness that spurred him to always protect _her._

“Chloe,” he murmured with a slight chuckle, “Chloe, darling, _slow down._ ”

“Need to feel you,” she returned whilst her shaky fingers flew down the buttons of his shirt.

He rubbed at her back, ever astute to her thoughts.

“I’m here,” he soothed. “We have time.”

Did they? She wasn’t so sure and today had been a jarring reminder.

_“It never ends well,”_ he had gone on to say.

But then again, she told herself, burying the horrid montage of all the times either them nearly died threatening to drown her by swiping her tongue along his bottom lip so that he bloomed with a delicious moan for her—his heart racing strong and powerful and _true_ beneath the palm she had laid across his chest, atop the space she had claimed as _hers,_ a gift he had freely given.

There were worse ways to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this! If you have a request, let me know and will see what we can do about it!
> 
> You can also reach me on my [tumblr!](http://swishandflickwit.tumblr.com/)


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